One business, one build, on your own accounts. You talk to whoever writes the code.
One system. The page customers order from, the screen staff work all day, the payment proofs, the kitchen’s list, the month’s numbers.
It replaces the notebook, the group chat and the spreadsheet.
Not a brochure site. Not a template. Your domain, your payment accounts, nothing shared with another shop.
Two so far. Both real, both named. One you can click right now.
BS Information Technology, Mapúa. Then five years running my own business before I built anything for anybody else.
That order matters. I ask about your deadlines and your busiest week before I ask about features — I have been the one answering messages at eleven at night.
Chicky’Oink is my family’s. Orders in Messenger threads, retyped for the kitchen every night, screenshots checked by eye. I built the order book they run on now. I did not hand it over and leave. That is how I know what breaks.
Because I know this one. Take money before you deliver on a date and you get the same three problems everywhere.
Nagoya, Japan. One hour ahead of Manila. Everything in writing — a quote with fixed price and fixed dates, and a test site you can click.
Messenger, text, or the form. Video calls any time. No phone calls — that is what the distance costs, and why the rest is written down.
So nobody wastes a call finding out.
That one answer tells me most of what I need.